


I Wanna Crawl Through the Dark (just to feel your heartbeat against me)

by maybe_we_were



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Bedrooms, Blonde Natasha, Dreams, Emotions, F/M, Forward Natasha, Friends to Lovers, POV Natasha Romanov, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sexy Times, Sleep Deprivation, Slow Burn, Steve is Confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_we_were/pseuds/maybe_we_were
Summary: Back after an intense solo mission, all Steve wants is sleep.  Too bad he confuses a few things along the way.AKA How Steve accidentally ended up in Natasha's bed.Set Post- Captain America: Civil War.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello AO3 friends!! I hope you have had a great beginning to the week- here's to being almost halfway! The teaser trailer did a lot for my Steve Rogers' feels. I am hoping that we get to see a lot more of him and Nat in the movie. Hopefully here's something to tide you over!
> 
> "Did you remember to mention that these Marvel characters aren't yours?"  
> "Always."

It’s been a long few days.

Steve just returned from a solo mission down in Florida, following a lead on a number of missing SHIELD files- a lead that went absolutely nowhere.  He barely got any sleep, between his undercover work, research, and the heat of the summer sun near the Equator.  The travel was also unforgiving- straight from the jet to his hotel, with a return trip the following night at midnight.  Luckily, SHIELD provided a ride for him back to the base, because, honestly, he doesn’t think he could have made the drive himself.

He shuffles through the door, bag in hand, around three a.m.  The only thing on his mind is sleep.  His eyes are barely open as he enters the elevator and presses the button for his floor.

In a few seconds, the doors slide open to an empty apartment.  He drops his travel gear at the entrance, not bothering to turn on the lights.  He walks past the kitchen, not stopping for a snack, since he had one on the flight.  He does pause at the bathroom door, where he strips down to his boxers, leaving his clothes there to put in the hamper later.  Although he’s tired, there’s no way he’s sleeping fully clothed and partially uncomfortable because of it.

Taking a few more steps, he arrives in his bedroom.  It’s dark enough that he has to use his muscle memory to get to the right spot.  He’s successful, except for stubbing his toe on the leg of the bed.  He lays his phone on the nightstand, although he’s not expecting any calls the next day.  A creature of habit, he pulls back the sheets on the right side of the bed, where he usually sleeps.

Sliding into the fresh, cool sheets is a treat after getting little sleep in a stuffy room during his mission.  He quickly settles in, covering himself with the comforter and adjusting his pillow.  His fingers skim across the sheets in search of the second pillow on his queen-sized bed.  His hand is about halfway there when his fingers brush something smooth and warm, making his hand jerk back on instinct.

_What the hell is in his bed?_

He stretches out to reach for the switch on the lamp resting on the bedside table.  His fingers grope in the dark, but…

There’s no lamp.

Now very confused, Steve grabs his phone from where he left it on the nightstand.  Pressing the power button, the screen lights up enough for him to see various parts of the room.  The moment he sees gray sheets, his heart starts to thump harder.  Slowly shining the light across the room, he finally sees what he touched. 

The “what” is actually not a “what” at all, but a “who.”  There’s blonde hair splayed across the pillow he was looking for.  Natasha’s face is peaceful, her eyes still closed, her jaw relaxed.  Her breathing is steady and deep.  Seeing that, he feels relief knowing he didn’t wake her.

The light and his gaze move further down her body.  Her shoulders are bare, and it’s then that a lot of things click into place.

The first is that Natasha apparently sleeps naked.  On all of the missions they’ve been on together, she’s worn shorts and a tank top or athletic clothes when they’ve had to share a hotel room for the night.  Right now, her back is to him, which must be what his fingers brushed against.  The idea of what else he might brush against under the covers is driving him insane.  She’s killing him and she doesn’t even know it.

The second is that this isn’t his apartment, his bedroom, or his bed.  He knows this because his sheets are blue instead of gray like the ones he’s currently looking at.  Most likely, he pressed the button for the wrong floor.  A five and six look oddly similar, especially at three in the morning when you’re dead on your feet.

The last is that he better get out of Natasha’s bed fast, no matter how much his mind and body protest.  He lays back on the bed for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get his stuff and leave without disturbing Natasha.

It’s while he’s thinking that he hears Natasha’s breathing shift.  Steve stills as much as he can, even slowing down his breathing, just in case the rise and fall of his chest was enough to wake her. 

He freezes when Natasha rolls over and partially on top of him.  Her chest is pressed against his arm, while her arm drapes itself over his stomach.  She burrows in, and Steve can tell she has no clue that she’s cuddling up to him instead of a pillow.  Her head settles into the crook of his neck, her breath hot on his skin.  The feel of Natasha’s warm, pliant body against his feels good.  He knows that he shouldn’t be here, but there’s no way he can leave now. 

Trying to not overthink it, he closes his eyes, sleep coming almost immediately.

 

* * *

 

He wakes to the sensation of fingers dancing across his skin.  It’s still dark, leading him to believe he has only been asleep for an hour or two, at most.  His head lulls to the side, only to find Natasha already awake.

For once, he isn’t sure what to do.  Natasha continues to stare at him calmly, her fingers still tracing their path back and forth.  Lucky for him, Natasha speaks first.

“Hi,” she whispers, her voice raspy from sleep.

“Hi,” he replies, his voice equally as rough.  He pauses for a moment before speaking again.  “I’m sorry.  I got back late and pressed the button for the wrong floor.  I didn’t realize it until I got into your bed.”

He can feel her quick laugh reverberate through his own chest.

“So…” she starts, drawing out the word, “why are you still here then?”

As she says this, she doesn’t sound upset or angry, just curious and slightly amused.

“Well, when someone wants to use you as a human body pillow, you let them.”

That and being up close and personal with the woman he’s been interested in doesn’t hurt. 

She laughs again, and as she does, her hands start to wander.  Steve would almost think he’s fantasizing this, but the feelings stirred up in him are definitely real.

“You know, I almost swore I was dreaming when I found you here,” she mumbles softly.

Steve hums in response, his own hands beginning to roam over the curve of her hip and along her thigh.  He normally wouldn’t be so bold, but there’s just something about Natasha that pushes him to do things he wouldn’t usually do.

Their chemistry has always been there, simmering under the surface.  Now, it’s at a full on boil.

“Do you think you’re still dreaming?” he asks as one hand slides to her bottom and gives it a firm squeeze.

The hitch in her breathing is a _very_ satisfying response.

“No, definitely not,” she murmurs, stroking her fingers up his chest.  She’s making it difficult for him to form a coherent reply, but he somehow manages.

“Have you dreamt of this before?” he asks.

In response, he gets a single nod.

“Me too.  Let me show you what always happens next in my dreams,” he says as he rolls her underneath him.


	2. Burnin' It Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening as told from Natasha's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Happy Monday! Here's a little update (thank you for the suggestions in the comments- they inspired me!). This is told from Nat's point of view. I'm horrible at writing smut, so I apologize for that. Still, I hope you like it!

Natasha knows exactly what woke her up- her room is way too hot.  She always turns down the heat in her room before going to bed to avoid this exact problem.  This is the first it’s happened since she moved to the new base.  Although she wants to move the covers aside for relief, she likes the weight of the comforter on her body. 

Contemplating the best way to cool down, she changes the position of her legs to a new spot on the mattress.  Her hand, though, moves on its own. 

_What the hell?_

She might be going crazy, but it feels like her pillow just moved. 

Her eyes snap open immediately.  It only takes her brain a few moments to process the sight in front of her, though at first, she honestly wonders if she’s dreaming.

Steve is pressed up against her, his body heat radiating heat and warming up the space under the covers.  There is very little light coming into the room, but there’s enough for her to make out his short blonde hair.  His steady breathing causes his chest to move up and down.  Her arm, which is laying across his bare chest, moves with it. 

She’s not sure when he came back from his mission or how she ended up cuddling with him, or even why he’s in her bed, but she’s wanted Steve for so long now that she doesn’t care.

She never allows herself to let her looks or touches linger, so she decides to take advantage while she can.  His skin is smooth under her fingertips as she slowly traces her fingers up his chest.  She’s only able to do this for a minute or two before she accidentally wakes Steve up.  She can tell he’s awake when his head turns in her direction, his eyes blinking sleepily before his gaze settles on hers.  She knows she needs to say something to break the tension growing between them.

“Hi.” 

It’s the easiest conversation starter she can think of.

“Hi,” Steve says back.  His voice is even deeper than normal, though it changes as he continues to speak.  “I’m sorry.  I got back late and pressed the button for the wrong floor.  I didn’t realize it until I got into your bed.”

His explanation makes sense, but she’s not sorry at all with where he ended up for the night.  There is something about this, about them, that feels right.  His response doesn’t really clue her in on what _he’s_ feeling, though.  In her mind, there’s only one way to find out.

“So…” she says, drawing out the word for a few beats, “why are you still here then?”

She makes sure to ask in a way that lets Steve know she’s ok with him being here. 

“Well, when someone wants to use you as a human body pillow, you let them,” Steve murmurs.

His answer makes her laugh.  He is one damn fine pillow, that’s for sure, though she decides to keep that comment to herself.  She can tell he is very comfortable with them together by his response.  If he wasn’t, he would have immediately gotten out of bed and apologized to her. 

The way he’s talking…she can’t help the way her hands wander over Steve’s torso, wanting to touch more.  Her physical actions are pretty forward, but now it’s time to be direct with her words, too.

“You know, I almost swore I was dreaming when I found you here,” she mumbles softly.

Now Steve is the one letting his hands roam, and damn does that feel good.  His calloused fingers are rough against her skin, something she finds to be a complete turn on.

“Do you think you’re still dreaming?” he asks quietly.

As he asks, one hand wanders south and grasps her butt.  She has to gasp for air, the sensation of his hands on her making her breathless.  Catching her breath, she mumbles some kind of reply.

“Have you dreamt of this before?” he asks.

She’s too caught up in what’s happening to give a verbal response.  Instead, she merely nods her head.

“Me too.  Let me show you what always happens next in my dreams,” he says as he rolls her underneath him.

_Yes.  Yes, please._

Steve’s chest presses down on hers slightly, and his knees nestle between her thighs.  His arms are braced on either side of her while hers make their way around his upper body. 

Steve wastes no time lowering his mouth to hers for a kiss so hot that it feels like her muscles are melting.  His mouth is insistent, firm but still giving, and she matches his pace. 

In minutes, she’s breathing hard.  Steve must notice because his lips stray from her mouth to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone.  In response, she trails her fingers along the curve of his spine.  Steve shudders a little under her touch before he presses into her.  She takes a mental note, because he obviously likes it.  She is still amazed that she can make Steve, the strongest man she knows, feel that way. 

His lips move to her ear, a move that surprises her.  Her hips involuntarily rock into his, sliding against the smooth fabric of Steve’s boxers. 

They absolutely have to go, so Natasha slides her hands down his sides until her fingers reach the waistband.  She gives them a sharp tug downward.  Steve momentarily pauses what he’s doing and disposes of them on the floor next to the bed.

It’s when he stops for a moment that she knows this is a big step for the two of them.  They can’t go back after this, but that’s ok, because she doesn’t want to.

The look he gives her is one that asks for permission.  She can see it in his eyes as clearly as if he were saying it out loud.  _Is this ok?  Are you sure?_

She simply pulls his head down to hers and kisses him hard.  He rocks into her in one swift movement and Natasha has never felt so full in her life- full of him, full of emotion.  Her face must be like an open book because Steve stops for a minute. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, clearly concerned.

She wishes she could put what she’s feeling into words, but she is having a hard time doing so.  There’s only one thing he needs to know, though she’s not sure he’ll get it.

“There’s _nothing_ wrong.”

Steve’s brow furrows for a moment until his expression softens with understanding.  All of the times she’s been with a man before, there _was_ something wrong.  It was either the wrong time, for the wrong reason, or with the wrong person.  Now, none of those reasons are true.

Steve starts to move again, watching her expression before allowing his mouth to fuse with hers.  Everything after is a tangle of limbs, roaming hands, and whispered nothings.

Needless to say, they wake each other up multiple times that night to “make sure” they weren’t dreaming.


End file.
